an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations & other curiosities :: profile
01.23.24
Between storms: drop-speckled panes, soggy soles (and souls), damp dog. The spirit flails a bit.
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I dream I am supposed to give a presentation. I arrive at the venue: the symposium is over, and everyone is wondering why I did not give my presentation. When I wake up, my face is hot and itchy.